I Slit My Own Eyeballs
My brother sent me this note yesterday it is kind of like "Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus." for political consultants...
By Hunter S. Thompson In the San Francisco Examiner
Generation of swine: tales of shame and degradation in the '80s
October 22, (probably 1988) San Francisco
October is the cruelest month of any election year, but by then, the pain is so great that even the strong are like jelly and time has lost all meaning for anybody still involved in a political campaign. By that time, even candidates running unopposed have abandoned all hope of victory and live only for the day when they will finally be free to seek vengeance on all those treacherous bastards who once passed themselves off as loyal friends and allies and swore they were only in it because they all shared the same hopes and dreams…
October in the politics business is like drowning in scum or trying to hang on through the final hour of a bastinado punishment…. The flesh is dying and the heart is full of hate: The winners are subpoenaed by divorce lawyers and the losers hole up in cheap motel rooms on the outskirts of town with a briefcase full of hypodermic needles and the certain knowledge that the next time their name gets in the newspapers will be when they are found dead and naked in a puddle of blood in the trunk of some filthy stolen car in an abandoned parking lot.
Others are not so lucky and are doomed, like Harold Stassen, to wallow for the rest of their lives in the backwaters of local politics, cheap crooks and relentless humiliating failure. By the time Halloween rolls around, most campaigns are bogged down in despair and paralyzed by a frantic mix of greed and desperation that comes with knowing that everything you have done or thought or worked for or believed in for the past two years was wrong and stupid.
There are never enough seats on the last train out of the station….
Creative Director at UCSF - One must wait until evening to see how splendid the day has been.
4 个月No one understood elections like Hunter S. Thompson. I would be interested to read his take on this one.
Marketing strategist, OTT advertising specialist, and biochar enthusiast. adrielhampton.com
4 个月Breathing through it.
Creative director/strategist/writer/director at Brainchild Creative
4 个月Starting out, doing the day-to-day management in various garden spots, by the time October rolled around, all I longed for in life was the comfy recliner back home and a football game on the tv. And — this is critical—someone from the local squad of experts NOT calling me to complain that since I was only in the headquarters 15 hours a day, I clearly “didn’t care enough.” Hunter is like the eternal god of truth; long gone but still unerringly seeing. Thanks for the share.